We stared at the black screen of the television. The only sound in the living room came from the large clock on my wall that ticked quietly with each passing second.

“You know, you never told me why you were at my house in the first place.” I stifled a yawn, using the back of my good hand to cover my mouth.

“You’re exhausted. How about I help you get to bed, and we can talk about it tomorrow?”

Yawning again, I agreed.

He argued to carry me up the loft stairs, but I protested enough he let me go on my own. By the time I reached the landing, I was woozy again and even more tired than before. It took me twice as long to remove my clothes, since I had a numb hand and arm.

Owen called up to me twice to make sure I was okay.

“Yeah,” I mumbled as I finally released my bra and slid it down my arms. My sleepshirt rested around my neck as I tried to maneuver my arms through the holes. The first went through fine, but I struggled to get my injured arm through the opening. It took an extra minute, but thankfully I tugged the shirt down enough to cover my panties just as Owen climbed the stairs.

“Good. You’re dressed. Now, get into bed.” He brushed past me and tugged down the covers for me to slide in.

Once I was settled, he moved around the bed and sat down. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but then I heard two thumps. Shoes.

Then… he stretched his large body across the other side of my bed, on top of the covers.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping an eye on you.”

“Owen, that’s ridiculous.”

“Sorry, Mom’s orders. Now get some sleep. If you need some pain meds during the night, wake me up. I’ll get them for you.”

There was no point in arguing. Owen was just as stubborn as I was. Instead, I turned over and faced him, my injured arm draped over my body. Gently, he slid a small, decorative pillow under my arm to help it stay elevated, then turned to face me.

Any other night, I would have protested his staying over, or at least take the opportunity to stare at his handsome face. But as soon as my body relaxed in the bed, I was lost in slumber.

Chapter Ten – Owen

The sound of large machines outside the small house woke me from one of the best nights of sleep I’d had in a long time. Even better than some of the five-star hotels I stayed at with Vanessa.

Staring up at Aspen’s ceiling, I wondered how many missed calls or messages I’d find on my phone this morning. I purposely left it charging in the kitchen area.

Turning over, I saw Aspen was still asleep in the same position as the night before. Her eyes were pinched shut as if she was in pain, and knowing the stubborn woman, she was hurting but refused to ask me for anymore help.

It was a humbling experience to have her require my assistance last night. Just imagining what would have happened if I hadn’t been there was all I needed to finally call my mother.

That in itself was humbling enough for me. But just as I knew she would, my mother came at my first request for help. I remembered her having to stitch my wounds a few times growing up, when my dad got reckless with a pocketknife. Shaking my head, I ridded my thoughts of my mom having to stitch herself up when my father would go after her.

Stretching, I climbed out of Aspen’s bed, doing everything I could to keep from waking her up. As I slipped on my shoes, I watched her eyelids tighten even more and her lips flatten into a line.

Out of instinct, I shuffled over to her side of the bed and gently ran my hand across her hair. Her body immediately relaxed beneath my touch.

She really was beautiful, especially when she wasn’t out to get me. Though, those were some of my favorite memories. Her comment the night before about prom was something I was going to keep locked away for good measure. It was the most honest conversation I’d ever had with Aspen, and I knew she told me that in confidence. I wasn’t even sure if she would remember it when she woke.

Downstairs, I cleaned up the mess left in the bathroom from the night before, then left the house. The large farmhouse was my destination. I hadn’t been lying when I told her I cooked breakfast for me and my mom growing up.

Settling for something sweet, I went about gathering the loaf of bread, making a note to myself to restock it for Mrs. Easterly today. Then I gathered some eggs, milk, vanilla extract, and cinnamon.

It took me a couple of minutes to find everything I needed around the kitchen, but before long, I was making enough french toast to feed an army.

As I plated the first batch, I was surprised there didn’t seem to be anyone home in the house. With all the banging around I was doing, I would have woken everyone up. I glanced at the clock on the microwave and saw it was 9:30 a.m. Not too early in the morning, but definitely early for Aspen.

Just as I plated the last couple of batches and found the syrup, the sound of the front door slamming forced me to look down the long hallway leading to the front of the house. Mrs. Easterly and her three other daughters stared back at me in surprise.

I felt like I’d been caught stealing.

“I’ll… uh… replace the loaf of bread.”

Marisol smiled gently, then walked down the hall toward me, her daughters trailing behind her.

“You made french toast?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. I was going to take it over to Aspen’s.” Now, looking over the multiple platters of food, it was far too much for two people. I might have gotten carried away.

“She’s still asleep?” Autumn asked as she not-so-sneakily snatched a slice of the french toast. One of her hands rubbed her expanded belly as she moaned with each bite. “This is delicious, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

Marisol drew my attention once more. “Is she sick? Aspen has never slept in.”

“Yeah.” Unsure how much to disclose, I hesitated. “She got a small injury last night while out in the fields, repairing a fence.”

“What?” Marisol’s face turned an ashen hue just as Nash walked into the room through the back door.

“Aspen got hurt last night,” Marisol told him, not looking at her husband, who was loading up a plate with the french toast, but at me. “Is she okay? What happened?”

All eyes of the Easterly family were on me. All except Nash’s. For some reason, I had a feeling he already knew what was going on. Nothing took place on this farm without him knowing. My mother and the medical assistant driving through the main gates would have been on his radar.

Thankfully, I was saved by the pixie in question as she walked casually into the room. “I’m fine, Mom. Just a nasty scrape that needed stitches.” She showed her wrapped arm and went into a Cliff’s Notes explanation of what happened. I watched Nash out the corner of my eye. He nodded slightly as he smothered his breakfast in a month’s worth of syrup.

Turning to her father, she told him she’d fix the fence this morning after moving Carrie the cow to a different field.

“That dang cow has had it out for you since she came to this farm,” Marisol inserted as she started filling her own plate with the toast. Her other daughters did the same. “Should we look at rehoming her, Nash?”

“Mom, she’s fine. I just need to make sure she’s not in a field where I’m working. It’s not her fault. She thinks I’m encroaching on her territory.”

I could tell there was more Marisol wanted to say. Even I had a few thoughts, but I kept my mouth shut. This was family business, and I was just a fly on the wall.

Aspen filled a plate, and then I finally grabbed some breakfast for myself. Before I knew it, all the toast was gone, and Nash was cleaning dishes.

Marisol and Aspen’s sisters had been out at the hair salon that morning, and I noticed how Aspen deflated at the knowledge. Even though I liked her long waves, I knew she felt passed over next to her sisters.

In my quest to take her from the house, I thanked the family for allowing me to use their kitchen and then ushered Aspen away. I was pretty sure I even saw Alex crack a knowing grin in my direction.